


Just Between Lovers Specials

by Soloh



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-09-27 18:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17167298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soloh/pseuds/Soloh
Summary: Somewhere in the future or past, very possibly another world….or not, two fools lay in bed with bellies filled with some "extra nice" eggnog….





	1. Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a lovely reader of mine who after reading it told me to post it, which I debated since this is pure silliness that leans a little OOC. But this was written for fun and hopefully it reads that way to you all.
> 
> Maybe consider this nsfw?

_Somewhere in the future or past, very possibly another world….or not, two fools lay in bed with bellies filled with some extra nice eggnog…._

"Bloody hell!"

I couldn't help exclaim, as my eyes beheld the bags of Christmas gifts for the school teacher himself, given with love and bribery from children and exasperated parent alike. All I ever received as a doctor was a generic white mug with a crumbled candy cane limp over the rim.

_I hated candy canes._

Jamie had three mugs and a set of tumblers with pictures of reindeers and frosty trees alight with jolly, damn, cheer. A scarf of dark blue wool that reached to his knees. Mittens to match but far too small for his large hands (mine for the taking, thank you!). A hot cocoa set with marshmallows as big as his thumbs…Then I looked into the contents of the other two bags that I quickly upturned.

_**"Bloody Hell!!"** _

Before me was a bounty of chocolate of Wonka sized proportions, wrapped in a shine of beautiful reds and greens and golds, strewn about in indecent decadence atop my poor terrorized sheets that had already been witness to the most shameless of acts. The sting of which I could feel in delicious dark blooms of heather at the tender skin of my nape and swell of breasts. And everywhere else _that_ ravenous brute dared to tease, as my thighs (peppered in bites) tingled from the lingering heat of him, warm and musky, with the last of his caress a raspy breath of cocky, slap worthy, complimentary insults that I hadn't the energy to respond to.

But the temptation at hand was something altogether different and a grand deal less vexing. My fingertips twitched achingly to unravel all the heavenly goodness, tempting my mouth to water in sweet anticipation and my face to blush in overwhelming delight.

Or maybe it was the naked lump beside me coming back to the living, tracing circles along the bare planes of my back, tempting me to fall back into the disarray of our bedding, halfway tangled to the floors, as his touch promised we would soon be.

"Ye have the look of a child, mo nighean donn, with the same devilish grin and mischief to yer eyes." Jamie mocked, as those same fingers now combed through the maelstrom of my curls that his own flamed waves mirrored in ravishment.

As were his lips, swollen full and red, grinning just as fiendishly, to glowing ruddy skin from jaw down to navel, where Jamie's thatch of hairs trailed below to part, sprouting in a wildfire of need that called out to me. Where a struggle for dominance over one another's flesh would overtake us. Jamie, stretched atop me, wrists pinned above my head in a ruthless split with his knees to join me flush, hip to hip, with little more than a grunt from him and me, an inaudible sound of challenge. More. Harder. Please. Or me riding Jamie above, driving him to the edge with every twist, with every -

But then the Scot opened his mouth and ruined it all.

"Ye ken yer drooling a river set to drown me, Sassenach? Right at the corners. Just here." He pulled himself upright, brushing a finger to the spot that apparently glistened to capture his sight and inspire his tongue.

So I bit him.

While Jamie was swinging his wrists to and fro, wiggling his wounded finger in the air, I gave my heart to the selfless love of the chocolates in front me. Everything from biscuits drenched in melted hazelnut to the classic perfection of a Cadbury egg.

Filled with caramel...

Endless amounts of them...

The perfect indulgence...

And the first to be eaten.

My blood rushed with waves of white sugar to my heart in beating true love, and all _6'4 of irritating Scot_ was forgotten as I began to pile my favorites on my side and discarding the lessers with a throw to Jamie's feet.

He could have the wafers and the deplorable chocolate mintys. It's what he deserved.

Two for him, five for me…

"Yer hoarding all _**MY**_ goods, you wee she-devil." Jamie growled, once the throb of my teeth had waned, reaching for what was rightfully his and I slapped his hand away.

"You have the chocolate mintys." I gestured with my chin at his meager helpings at the foot of the bed. Deceptive, green wrappers and all. How many times had I been tricked?

"Och, I like those weel and fine, Sassenach." Jamie replied far too cheerily, as he then proceeded to pop them to his mouth, knowing full well my opinion of a flavour meant only for toothpaste and gum, smacking the chocolate till his lips smeared highly unattractive with it.

Then with impish glee, Jamie dipped his disheveled mop of curls and sweet, minty breath my way.

"No!" I squealed, pushing my hands to his face to shield my own from an invasion that I would twist his bawls for. Then I felt Jamie's chuckle against my palms that he kissed softly in truce until I lowered them.

"Alright, dinna fash, Sassenach. Split an egg with me then. Canna let yer teeth rot alone, can I?"

"What kind of person splits a Cadbury egg?" One who has a six pack no matter what he ate, that I took a stabbing finger to.

"You wee glutton." His voice was warm with fondness even as he slapped my thigh. "Then give me the damn Curly Wurly so I can have ye on yer knees, mo nighean. Punishment suited for thievery."

"But there's only one - Jamie!" I was pulled to my knees alright. In a straddle to his lap, hands running up my back, through thickets of hair in a pull down to his lips. Hot and inviting that fluttered my pulse. To hell with the mint, I felt positively kindled from within, and so was Jamie. The growing desire between us evident against my belly with every moan lost between our gasps for air.

Afterwards we would lay entwined with one another, our chests covered in crumbled bits of candy and fingers coated in caramel for the other to taste, as the flakes of snow gathering softly on the windowsill.

The End

  
  



	2. Valentine's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I had some trouble getting JBL Claire's voice back so I'm pretty sure this is an even more heightened version of her than usual. Sorry 2) Don't think too hard on the timeline here. This could all be from a time of yesteryear that never was, trapped in a raindrop…to a puddle…then a fall...
> 
> For @tuethat over on Tumblr. You are a wonderful kind lovely soul and I can never thank you enough!
> 
> And I hope this is entertaining for all of you who are still interested in this little fic.

 

It was the day of St. Valentines.

Just another day for the indifferent, with their suffering roll of twitching eyes to all the blinding displays of love blasting red and rows of heart shaped discounted chocolates. Waxy, inedible, spit to the dirt kind, with a curse to oneself for being tempted to foolery yet again.

Where lonely hearts disavowed all celebration with a single (triple) downing of liquor. Be it cheap wine that promised to dribble down your shirt resembling a sloshed dog or golden divinity that could purge the quivering heartache to a slowing, heavy beat. Blood warming, coursing, churning hot in the belly, stroking desire just below. Shooting to a stinging burn of mouth, cooled with a gasping breath of deliverance, going back for another touch of fleeting affection.

Then there were the lovers.

A time to come together to forget how much you annoyed one another with a drooping rose bouquet, petals torn and missing, curling yellow at the edges. A chocolate box all too familiar with it’s yellow sticker scraped away. Reservations for the same restaurant as the year before but with a different girl who got the better of him and you the lesser.

Sometimes the day delivered a proposal of lifelong commitment hidden away in a goo of chocolate, your fingers smeared sticky sweet in discovery as curious (intrusive) glances waited to slap their hands together as you contemplate a future dripping like shit.

Or one beaming of promises everlasting, a ring held by a man conjured from a true elsewhere of lochs, glens and rolling heathered hills. The dark hours of my escape, dreams turned reality…

And if James Fraser ever dared to do so in front of an audience with mouths agape, phones in hand, mine would fall down low twisting on all that dangled dear.

He wouldn’t though…

That was another day. A different time…

This Valentine’s however, we found ourselves sheltered from the chilly downpour outside to the snugly warmth of indoors with greasy takeaways piled high. Forks clashed leaving a loser ruthless, fingers tasted, bitten, tangled in curls as lips wandered, tracing the lines of veins to throbbing heated pulse, food spilling without a care.

Better than any meal over candlelight…until a turn of events left him overly concerned and me frustrated.

Now, Jamie’s attention was squarely on a game of tight shirts and shorts, muddied and bloodied, as I  laid molded, body and soul, on my side across the couch, legs atop his lap. I was left to rest unbothered until a moment of triumph on screen where I was  _rewarded_  with his hand under the hem of my dress to cup and knead the swell of all that  _he_ held dear. A dip in the score, however, was a hard digging grip, leaving my skin pink, and he a knock in the ribs.

If only I could move.

My sore arse wasn’t enough to propel me to violence. I felt weighted to the soft blue cushions, feeling an increasing kinship with the sluggish disposition of sloths. But even they had a somewhat lazy grace about them. I settled for a hiss of Jamie’s name and a scoot away from his bruising touch that on any other day would have been welcomed and reciprocated, depending on my mood.

I could see a blushed mark of that mood glowing at his neck.

“Did I wake ye,  _Sassenach_?“ Jamie, all glimmering dew eyes and red waves of proper dishevelment, finally tilted his gaze my way having the bloody nerve to look innocent and damningly attractive. I didn’t trust it.

"I was never asleep.”

“So that was yer arse I heard?”

My foot went for his gut, while the other sought a snap of fragile bone between his well muscled thighs. Jamie easily caught both, locking my legs to submission, then slapping me on, “ _That fine, sweet **rrr** ump_”, taunting its size so pleasurable to his eye. But before my fists could avenge my honor he gently turned me, bestowing a penitent kiss, warm with a breath of an apology tickling my bare and tender skin. A face of love brightening his features, crumbling my resolve to be cross with him.

_Bastard_

My face, an open invitation to every scant thought, spoke wordlessly with Jamie. His bawls and cock were safe and would remain  _perfectly intact. Perfectly so._

A continued assault of peppered kisses had me giving in completely, breaking in laughter, pulling him by the scruff of his shirt as I was feeling tremendously better with each dose of his soft lips. With a sweet splitting grin, Jamie kept himself where he was, instead placing his hold at my hips, thumbs pressing circles into the protesting joints that had me mewing a satisfied sigh that reddened the tips of his ears like a well pleased faun.

He leaned forward with a press of his devotion at my belly, where his breath seeped through the fabric leaving my breasts puckered in habitual anticipation for a higher aim that never came.

“Are you still tender,  _mo nighean donn_?“ Jamie’s burr, a heavy cadence so close to my skin, traveled up my spine, loosening the rest of the knotted kinks that had shortened our earlier amorous efforts.

"Not if you keep on with thaa - Ah! lower Jamie -” He did, a soothing touch of reverence that went on and on down to my ankles and back where they started, stirring a hunger in me. Again.

Embarrassment must have stained my face as he flashed me a two-eyed wink that always left a flutter in my chest, a giggle suppressed.

“Och, I’ll dig around the fridge for something to feed ye.”

“There’s nothing in there. I looked.” Nothing and everything appealed to me and I was exhausted by the waves of cravings.

“Did ye check the crisper?”

“I refuse to bend that low.” I gave Jamie an accusatory cutting stare, where the response I received was very much the sting of male pride as I rubbed the reason why and of his thorough doing. Maybe his cock wasn’t so safe, but damn him for rising my pulse.

“I know. That’s where I hid a certain wee box for ye.”

I sat up with such speed my furry sloth kin would be envious.

“Christ, Sassenach! Ye’ll jostle  _my wee lad_.” Jamie’s palms went to settle whatever upheavel he imagined our child suffering, with a care that made me outstretch my touch to his stubbled cheek, finger trailing down to his chin and back.

“Yours is  _she_?”

A proud Scottish grunt was pressed to my palm. “ _Ours._ ” A kiss at the small round of my belly once more was given with a coo of gibberish my heart knew well. “A voracious wee fiend we have. Gets that from me and I beg yer pardon on our child’s behalf -as he yet can do much but kick.”

“An impatient wee thing too.” My hands joined his in a caress of our love, rings of silver, a sparkle of diamond, catching the budding bright starlight lighting the room.

“I’m afraid yer to blame for that, Sassenach.” He chuckled as I lightly swatted at his arm to get to his legs, a long stride that cut my admiration for his chiseled physique that started at his broad shoulders and lingered on his jean clad arse and thighs.

“Shall I bother with a plate?” He called from the kitchen.

“Serve me only a slice and I really will pummel you.” I knew it had to be raspberry tiramisu thay would be devoured no matter the regrets. Embarrassment left behind.

“Ye sound mighty confident of my surprise for ye,  _mo ghràidh_. Two forks? Or am I to lick ye off?”

“What do you think, _love_?”

Jamie was back before I could cackle off my teasing with his own restrained hunger eyeing me like the fat hen I felt.

“Damn the forks then.”

“Aye.” Was my squeaked reply, lost as his mouth met mine, creamy and sweet, tart from berries, the sneak having already had a taste.

But as he carried me ( _us_ ) away I didn’t really give a damn…except…

“The tiramisu, Jamie.”

The plea was smothered in another kiss that burned my lungs, parting briefly, starved for air, only to crash him back to me.

He didn’t forget.


End file.
